


Where Will We Go?

by moonlittides



Series: Jonsa Historical Event [1]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Adultery, Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Victorian, Arranged Marriage, Cheating, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Falling In Love, Jon and Sansa Are Not Related, Jon and the Starks Are Not Related, Love Confessions, Love at First Sight, Romance, Victorian
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-23
Updated: 2018-06-23
Packaged: 2019-05-27 12:51:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15024989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonlittides/pseuds/moonlittides
Summary: Since marrying her betrothed, Joffrey Baratheon, three months ago Sansa has found that being a wife is not all she hoped it would be. She's lonely and unhappy, and dreams of finding a love and passion like that she reads about in poetry and literature. When new cook, Jon Snow, arrives at her household it's love at first sight and Sansa finally finds all that she's dreamed of. But what will happen when Sansa is forced to choose between her duty to her husband and what is true in her heart?





	Where Will We Go?

**Author's Note:**

> This is my (late) submission for day one of jonsa-creatives 'A Time for Wolves' historical event. 
> 
> Some general information before you read: It's set in the Victorian era, Joffrey is a true Baratheon in this story, Jon is not a Stark, Joffrey and Sansa are in an arranged and unhappy marriage, Sansa is the adulterer, there is a brief scene where Jon has sexual relations with an original character (before he and Sansa are involved), there are references to a Brienne/Jaime romance and the characters of Jon, Sansa and Joffrey are all approximately 17-19 years old. 
> 
> The story is really corny and in-line with a typical mushy Victorian romance, but with a decent dose of angst because I'm incapable of writing a story without it haha.
> 
> I throughout enjoyed writing this and hope you will all enjoy reading it!

With the first glimmer of sunlight, Sansa awakes. Since marrying her husband, Joffrey Baratheon, three months ago, Sansa has grown accustomed to being awoken by a flood of her maidservants throwing open her curtains and announcing that breakfast is already laid out on the table in the dining room waiting for her. When she lived in her parent’s household, it was her younger siblings that woke her each morning by bouncing on her bed. She misses them terribly. Sansa knew since she was a young girl that it is her purpose as a woman to marry the man her father and mother had chosen for her, and be a faithful, loving and devoted wife and mother for the rest of her days. It is what Sansa was born to do and what she had been coached for by her mother and private tutors since she can remember. More than that, it is what she has desired since she was a child and now she has it all - everything she ever dreamed of. At least, that's what she tries to convince herself of.

Her father always promised he would find her a husband that was brave, gentle and strong, and Joffrey fits that description perfectly. He’s a fierce business man from a respectful family and he provides Sansa with all she could want and more. Though she is still adjusting, she is immensely grateful and in awe of the lavish parties, delectable food, exquisite clothing and exotic travel that she’s already had the privileged to experience. Her married home is large enough to fit her family of six ten times over and Joffrey has ensured she has attentive, hard-working servants at her beckon call – including Brienne, her mother’s most beloved and loyal maid whom Sansa has brought with her from her family home - for the long weeks and months that he is away on business.

Eddard Stark, Sansa’s father, and Robert Baratheon, Joffrey’s father are business partners and dear friends. A match between Sansa and Joffrey made sense and the two have been betrothed since they were small children. Sansa never once questioned her father's decision because she was pleased with the choice he had made. Sansa spent many hours playing with Joffrey in the gardens of his home, they would chase each other through the trees and giggle endlessly. She is thankful for all the years she has known Joffrey and that she knew him well before they wed, although being married to Joffrey is not all she expected it would be. She feels more distant from Joffrey than she ever has before. She knows little of his daily activities and he is reluctant to share. When Sansa was growing up her father was often away from the home on business and she never knew exactly what that entailed, but as a child and a female, it was not her place to know and she never asked questions. However, as a young woman of seventeen, Sansa is more curious of her husband’s activities than she was of her father’s. She often wonders where Joffrey is, who he is with and what business it is that he’s tending to, but knows that is no more her place to ask him those questions as his wife than it was to ask her father as his daughter.

Sansa picks out a book from the nearest bookshelf, without bothering to check the title and begins to read. As of late, books have been her greatest company. Even Brienne has done little to take away the painful sting of loneliness that has been present since Joffrey’s departure three weeks ago. Not that Joffrey spends much time with her even when he is at home. When he isn’t away on business he is away on social excursions – whether it be visits to art galleries or the theatre or team sports, Joffrey’s favourite is hunting. Sansa is occasionally invited to attend galleries and theatres with him, but he usually prefers her to stay at home. Sansa does not always mind since she is able to play croquet in the gardens and read in the sunshine, but she is starting to grow disillusioned by her isolation. When she lived with her family she had her brothers and sister to keep her company, but here she only has Brienne. She has found it difficult to trust or bond with any of the other servants in the household since they work for Joffrey and are loyal to him above her.

Sansa weeps for the lost dreams she had of how perfect it would be to wed Joffrey. When they were children he lavished her with attention, brought a rose for her each time he would pay visit to her parents’ household and romanced her with her favourite lemon cakes and sunset walks beside the lake. She took him for a romantic and thought he would sweep her off her feet and adore her, but since they have been married all of that has ended. The most affection he shows her is when they lie together, and even that lacks in care and passion. Sansa’s mother had once told her that as a wife she should always satisfy her husband’s carnal needs and since she has wed Joffrey she has never once denied him, even when she's wanted to. The process of it is unfeeling, unromantic and mechanical. There are no loving words and no gentle kisses or cuddles. He simply rolls on top of her, uncomfortably bounces up and down for a few minutes until he has spilled his seed and then returns to his own rooms leaving her cold and weeping. In truth, she dreads the evenings he pays visit to her quarters and is much more comfortable to have her nights to herself.

With each day that passes Sansa finds herself craving the adventure, passion and lust present in many of the poems and novels she reads. She reads Elizabeth Barrett Browning’s love sonnets that she wrote for her husband,

I love thee with the passion put to use

In my old griefs, and with my childhood’s faith.  
I love thee with a love I seemed to lose  
With my lost saints. I love thee with the breath,  
Smiles, tears, of all my life; and, if God choose,  
I shall but love thee better after death.

Sansa longs to feel that love for her own husband, but cannot seem to find it within herself. She has never experienced a feeling of such passion or love that she could produce words such as those. She knows it should not sadden her, because she is married to Joffrey which is what she always dreamed of, but she's aggrieved to think that she will never experience true passion. Sansa also thinks of one of her favourite novels, Pride and Prejudice. She admires Elizabeth's bravery in marrying Mr. Darcy against the will of her family and wishes she had the same courage. Sansa believed she was marrying for love, but now she can see that is not true. She holds some affection for Joffrey, but it is not the kind of love that makes her heart sing or her tummy churn; it is not wrought with passion or desire. In fact, it's not really love at all. It is a marriage of convenience that carries with it some semblance of affection left behind from the many years they spent together as children.

Tears run down Sansa’s cheeks and fall onto her finely woven bedspread. Having so much time alone with her thoughts only makes her more weary. If Joffrey were present she would not have time to think on such awful things. Sansa vows to forget all of this and reminds herself that she is lucky to have all that she does and that Joffrey is her husband. It is impure and unladylike to have such thoughts. Sansa goes to her vanity table and dabs at her damp face with a handkerchief, stares at her reflection, puts on a pretty smile and recites quietly, “All will be well”.

Despite the early morning lilac skies, showers endure throughout breakfast, so Sansa takes to sewing beside the fire until the clouds break and the sun returns. She then dresses for a mid-afternoon walk and plays lawn tennis with her maidservants. Later, her mother pays her a visit and they share a pot of tea and exchange childhood tales. It brings Sansa some comfort to see her mother and have news of her father and siblings, but the melancholy returns soon after Catelyn leaves. Sansa feels like a small girl of three years old as she watches her mother climb into the carriage and drift away. She wants to call out for Catelyn to take her home with her, but knows she is a wife now and that her duty to her husband must be her top priority.

When dinner arrives Sansa finds she has little appetite but knows she must eat so as to not draw attention to herself. She sits at the large grand oak table alone, with servants floating around and tending to their duties, and feels that familiar sting of loneliness return.

As Sansa stares blankly ahead, her mind filled with unwelcome thoughts, she hears an unfamiliar voice announce, “Good evening, ma'am. I wish to introduce myself.”

Sansa glances up at hearing the gruff voice and is immediately taken aback at the young man she sees before her.

“I am Jon Snow. Your husband Mr. Baratheon hired me to be under your service as your new cook.”

He doesn't look much older than Sansa, eighteen, perhaps nineteen. His dark eyes are shining in the light and are paired with a head of thick black curls and a fuzz of black stubble across his chin and cheeks. Sansa stumbles over her words for a few moments as she finds the words to say.

“I beg your pardon. What happened to Edwin?” Edwin was a charming, kind old lady that had been the cook in the Baratheon’s household since Joffrey was born. She makes the best mutton stew Sansa has ever tasted.

Brienne answers from behind her, “Unfortunately, ma'am, Edwin is unable to remain in yours and Mr Baratheon’s service due to ill health. She wishes you all the best.”

“Oh, no, that is sad news. I should have liked to have said goodbye to her.” Sansa should be used to Joffrey making decisions without her by now, but it still upsets and angers her. However, she knows she mustn’t let it show and remain courteous and polite. “Nonetheless, it is good to meet you, Jon Snow.”

The young man bows his head slightly and his mouth turns upwards at the corners to formulate a subtle smile. Witnessing it has a strange effect on Sansa who is suddenly finding it difficult to breathe. “Where have you joined us from, Mr. Snow?”

“Up north. Yorkshire.”

Sansa nods. “How wonderful. And you cook?”

“Aye.”

A petite blonde maidservant, whom Sansa cannot recall the name of comes up alongside Jon. “I recommended him personally to Mr. Baratheon, ma'am. Our mother’s were neighbours so we have known each other since we were young children.”

“How sweet,” Sansa comments.

“I know I’m young, but I have spent my life cooking and promise to serve you well.”

“I’m sure you will. I trust my husband’s judgement.” Jon Snow bows his head again. “This evening I will be serving leek soup, goose and potatoes and for dessert, egg custards.” With that, Jon exits the dining room and returns to the kitchen with the small blonde close on his heels.

Sansa is left behind wondering why she feels so sick and why her heart is hammering so hard against her chest. She rubs her damp palms on her gown beneath the table and plasters the sweet smile back onto her face.

* * *

 

That evening Sansa goes to bed with a smile upon her face and dreams of the handsome Jon Snow. She awakes feeling guilty and ashamed, but a letter from Joffrey soon changes her mood. In the letter he announces that his trip has been extended and he will not be returning for another month. Sansa cries and is not sure if she does so because of relief or anger. On the one hand, she feels abandoned and neglected by Joffrey, but on the other, she knows that even if he were with her she would feel just as lonely and unloved as she does now. She wonders if there is anything or anyone that can possibly heal the hole in her heart and make her feel all that she desires.

During Jon Snow’s second night in the household, Sansa is crossing the grand hall to get to her wing when she hears noises coming from downstairs. Concerned, Sansa heads in the direction of the noises to discover the source of the sound. The cries sound as though they’re from a woman in distress and though they start out faint, as Sansa grows closer she realises they’re much louder than she first thought they were. When Sansa hears that the sounds are coming from the kitchen, she’s surprised and confused and lightly pushes the door open a crack. What she sees causes a gasp to leave her and she clasps her hand over her agape mouth. The blonde servant who Sansa now recalls is Ida is propped up on the countertop with her skirts at her waist, head hanging back and a head of dark curls between her spread legs. Sansa’s initial reaction is to dash back upstairs and preserve the privacy of this clearly intimate encounter. Next, she considers bursting in and exposing their disgusting behaviour and dismissing them for their poor conduct. Yet, she finds herself paralysed, standing at the doorway, looking on at them. She knows it’s wrong, but she’s so utterly fascinated that she can’t seem to tear her eyes away. What is he doing with his head there!? And those sounds… They’re a mixture of groans, grunts, moans, cries, screams and heavy breathing. It’s unlike anything she’s heard before, so alien yet so erotic. Sansa thinks of the sounds she makes when Joffrey makes love to her and realises she’s usually silent, except the occasional squeak of discomfort or pain. Ida doesn’t sound like she’s in pain. She doesn’t look like it either. In the dim lighting, Sansa can see the sweat glistening on her face and see the elation on her face. Her mouth is wide open but she’s still smiling and she’s wildling moving against his face. Sansa feels flushed. Incredibly flushed.

When at last he moves his head from between her legs, Sansa decides to return to her room until she notices that the young man, Jon Snow, is naked. She’s seen naked men before – her brothers and Joffrey – but none like this. Even from this distance, she can feel her body react to seeing his physique. His back is defined, his buttocks are tight and rounded and he grabs Ida with strong arms before thrusting inside her causing her to moan even louder.

Sansa lets the door slip closed and stands behind it for a few moments trying to catch her breath. She wills herself to turn around and return to her rooms, but cannot resist peering back inside. They’ve changed position and now Jon is facing her, Ida rested on a different counter-top with her back to Sansa. His head is buried in her neck, his hands wrapped about her back and Sansa cannot help but imagine what it would feel like to be Ida. She imagines his hot breath prickling her neck, his strong caresses, the sensation of his toned, athletic body against her, his hard thick cock inside her… Sansa lets her eyes drop shut, her hands involuntarily run across her neck and her chest and a single moan escapes her. She realises her mistake as soon as it has happened because when she opens her eyes Jon is looking right at her. She gasps in horror and expects him to curse her or scowl at her, but instead he just holds her gaze. It’s uncomfortably intense and he continues to thrust into Ida and hold Sansa’s eyes with confidence. After a few moments Sansa even sees a smile come across his face. Finally she can take no more and scurries off as fast as her legs will carry her.

Sansa collapses onto her mattress with a loud sigh. She cannot believe what she has just witnessed. As a married and respectful lady she should be horrified, disgusted, repulsed, but she’s not. Her heart is still racing, her flesh is burning and between her legs is throbbing. Confused by the emotions and sensations rushing around her body, Sansa climbs into bed and tries to calm herself. Although she dreamed of Jon Snow last night, tonight she dreams of him in an entirely different way. This time it is her that is propped up on the counter-top with his head between her legs, writhing and groaning in pleasure.

* * *

 

As much as she tries to forget, Sansa cannot stop thinking about what she saw that evening. As the woman of the house and in Joffrey’s absence, Sansa knows it is her place to dismiss Jon and Ida for their inappropriate conduct, but does not want anyone to know what she saw. More than that, she doesn’t want Jon to leave. Although Sansa is used to new servants coming and going from her household, there are none that she have had quite as much of an affect on her as Jon Snow. He is handsome beyond belief and charming too. In her daily life, Sansa generally has minimal contact with her servants, preferring to keep company only with the couple she trusts and wanting to maintain some level of independence. Yet, with Jon Snow, she looks forward to the moments she catches sight of him and soon resorts to purposefully seeking him out. When he speaks he is so polite and courteous that Sansa forgets about what she saw him doing to Ida in the kitchen. Although, it is harder to forget what she imagined him doing to her in her dreams…

The keen interest Sansa takes in Jon is visible for all to see. Kitchen duties remain Jon’s primary work, but he also tends to other chores and often helps the gardener. He seems to enjoy being outdoors and in the sunshine as much as Sansa does. On a few evenings, Sansa dismisses Brienne and invites Jon to walk with her around the gardens. He does so happily and the two learn of each other’s lives. Despite Jon being an orphaned bastard with very little education and the two being from entirely different worlds, Sansa feels an inexplicable pull to him. The more she learns about him, the more smitten she becomes. Though he has basic reading skills, he asks if she would teach him how to improve and Sansa happily obliges. Jon finds the same wonderment and solace in literature and poetry as she does and it only brings them closer together. Being in his company is unlike anything Sansa has ever experienced and soon enough her reason for waking in the morning is not so she can read, but so she can speak with Jon. Brienne warns Sansa of the danger of entertaining Jon in such a way, but Sansa’s usual tactful and careful attitude is compromised by her overwhelming affection for Jon. He makes her feel all the things she has read about, all the things she thought Joffrey would and all the things no other man has made her feel. However, she is cautious to always be honest and in all the letters she writes to Joffrey she speaks of Jon and their growing friendship. She presents him as being like a brother to her, much like Robb, although in truth her feelings for him are not those that a sister has for a brother.

One sunny afternoon, Jon and Sansa are perched on a bench in the rose garden when Jon makes an admission. “Sansa, I pride myself on being an honourable and honest man.”

“I know. That is what I admire about you,” Sansa beams.

Jon sighs. “Then you should know that over these passing weeks my feelings for you have grown to be more profound than that of servant and mistress. In fact, I think if I am honest about what is true in my heart, I have loved you from the first moment I saw you.”

Sansa is utterly taken aback by his confession. “Oh, I—”

“You needn’t say anything. I only wanted to inform you that I think my presence here is no longer suitable and I shall be looking for employment elsewhere.”

“No, you can’t,” Sansa gasps, horrified. “Oh, Jon, it would be cruel and unfair of me to expect you to leave your work because of—”

“It’s the honourable thing to do.”

He is voicing all the thoughts she has had but been too afraid to say. She's not as naive as people would believe, she knows that her relationship with Jon is inappropriate particularly since she is a married woman, but she has been too weak to deny herself. 

“It hurts me so to think of you leaving.” The urge to weep uncontrollably takes Sansa over.

Jon takes her hand in his. “If it were my choice, I would never leave your side.” His intense, adoring eyes bore into her and make her melt. “My heart will never be whole as long as I am apart from you.”

It’s only in this moment that Sansa realises how much she has come to love Jon. Just as she wished to shout her mother and beg her to take her home with her weeks ago, she wishes she could run away with Jon right now and never return. But she knows that she’s not a child anymore and so she cannot make childish choices.

“Where will you go?” Sansa asks, her voice trembling.

Jon lets go of her hand and Sansa immediately feels cold for being without his touch. “I do not know where I'll go. I have worked in many households over the years. I shall likely return to one of them to see if they will take me back. I wish to remain here for three more nights here to prepare for the journey, if that pleases you?”

“Yes. What will I tell Joffrey?”

“Tell him I left of my own accord. By the time he returns I will be far away and there will be no more questions he can ask.”

“I am truly sorry,” Sansa cries.

“No. Don’t be sorry. Don’t be sorry,” he urges. Sansa can see how desperately he wants to reach out and stroke the tears from her face, but it would be inappropriate. “I will carry you with me always.”

Jon takes her hand and places one firm, lingering kiss at the center of it before walking away. There’s so much Sansa wants to say, but she cannot find any words, all she can do is hold her head in her hands and weep.

* * *

 

The next couple of nights are torturous. Sansa barely finds the strength to get out of bed due to the heavy weight of her broken heart. On the occasions where she does see Jon, it is too painful to even look at him for all she sees is the loss of all her hopes and dreams. Having seen how miserable Sansa is, after lunch, Brienne confronts her.

“Ma’am, I loathe to see you so unhappy.”

“I’m not unhappy, Brienne. I am fine.”

“I believe that when Jon Snow moves on and Mr Baratheon returns, you will be gay once again.”

“Do you think so?" 

"I do, ma'am."

Sansa shakes her head. "I do not. Oh, Brienne, these passing weeks have taught me so much, but do you know what they have taught me most of all? That I didn’t know anything of love until I met Jon.”

“Ma’am, you don’t mean that. Mr. Baratheon is—”

“Yes, I do. I believed I loved Joffrey, I truly did. I think in some way perhaps I still do love him but with Jon…” Sansa sighs mournfully. “It’s as though the sun shines brighter, the birds sing louder and the flowers smell sweeter. All of the awful things in the world disappear when I’m with Jon until it’s just he and I. Jon has taught me what passion is, what love is, what life is. I cannot bear to be without him.” Sansa has confessed all her innermost desires and emotions before she has had chance to stop herself.

Brienne tilts her head to the side and regards Sansa with an empathetic look. “You’re married to Mr. Baratheon. Your heart may say something different, but your duty is to your husband and your husband is not Jon.”

It’s the truth and that’s why it’s exactly what Sansa doesn’t want to hear. “What if that weren’t true? What if Jon were my husband?”

Brienne shakes her head. “You know that can never happen. Mr. Baratheon has been your betrothed since you were two years old. He is the man your father and mother chose for you and he is the man to whom you are bound to life.”

“But I don’t want to be bound to him for life,” Sansa weeps, knowing she sounds like a pathetic little child. “All I want is Jon. There must be a way.”

Brienne sighs and gestures for Sansa to sit in the armchair across from her. “There was a time, long ago, when I was in love with a married man.”

“You were?” Brienne nods.

“Who was he?”

“His name was Jaime Lannister. He was a very wealthy man from an incredibly powerful and respected family, much like Mr Baratheon.”

“What happened?” Sansa asks, curiously.

“We had a very passionate love affair for many years and when his wife discovered our lies, she flew into a rage and had him killed.”

Sansa gasps. “Killed?”

“I was with him. He died in my arms.” Tears prickle Brienne’s eyes.

Sansa apologies profusely and feels her own eyes sting with tears at the mere thought of Jon dying in her arms.

“I was there the day you were born, Sansa. I birthed you, brought you into this world from your mother's womb. All I long for is your happiness.”

“Jon makes me happy.”

“That may be true, but I know the consequences of having an affair. Your actions and your feelings put both you and Jon in danger.”

“Joffrey have me killed. Nor Jon.”

“You don’t know that. When people are hurt or betrayed, they can do incredibly dark things. I wouldn’t wish that for you. With Joffrey, you may not have the passion you have with Jon, but you will want for nothing else.”

“If Jaime had lived would you have allowed him to be with his wife and left simply because it was what was easiest?” Sansa arches her eyebrows at Brienne in a challenging manner.

Brienne cannot answer.

“I understand that you are only trying to be a faithful servant and loyal friend, Brienne, and I value your advice just as I always have, but I've made my decision. I cannot allow this to happen. I can't let Jon leave.”

“So what will you do?”

“I’ll leave with him.”

Brienne shakes her head. “And where will you go? What will you do? Your family will disown you, you will not have even a penny to your name. Jon is a bastard with no inheritance or wealth, what does he have to offer you?”

“His heart.”

“His heart will not provide you with a secure future for yourselves or your children. I implore you to see reason.”

“I have made my decision," Sansa insists firmly.

“And there’s nothing I can do to dissuade you?”

“No.”

“Very well. I think you’re making a terrible mistake, but it is yours to make and I won’t stand in your way.”

With that Brienne exits, leaving Sansa alone. Sansa’s mind is filled with doubts and anxieties, but amongst all of that there is one thing she is absolutely certain of – she loves Jon with every piece of her heart and soul. Isn’t that enough? She wonders if the endless romance novels and poetry she’s read over the years have made her foolish and naïve to the realities of the world, but she quickly realises that if this is the reality of the world she doesn’t want it. She doesn’t want to have to spend the rest of her days locked up in a cold mansion alone, with only the company of a few servants and the occasional company of her emotionally inept husband. She understands that Jon cannot give her the life Joffrey can, but what does that mean if there’s no love? If she has children with Joffrey they would be every bit as lonely and unfulfilled as her, and that is something that no amount of wealth can fix. Sansa knows that by making this decision she is leaving behind everything she knows, abandoning all security she has and putting her absolute faith in a man she met only a few short weeks ago, but in her heart it feels right. She spent so many years dreaming of marrying Joffrey and mapped out their entire lives together, but even on the day of their wedding something was missing. With Jon, it feels as though this is her true purpose and that he's the person she has spent her entire life waiting for.

Sansa finally understands all of the wonderful things Elizabeth Barnett Browning spoke of, because she feels it all for Jon. After having know this love and passion Sansa knows she couldn’t stand to live the rest of her life without it. Although she is terrified, she does not feel an ounce of doubt. Her entire life has been decided for her by someone else and she allowed it to happen, but Jon has given her the strength to take charge of her own fate.

When she bursts through the kitchen doors, she dismisses all of the servants except for Jon.

“Sansa, what is wrong?” Jon asks, concerned.

Sansa locks the door and without a word marches straight up to Jon and presses her lips to his hard and fast.

“No,” Jon protests. “This is wrong. You’re married.”

“If you’re leaving, I’m coming with you.”

Jon stares at her in shock. “No. No, that—No, you can’t come with me. You belong here. Your place is here.”

“I belong with you,” Sansa insists.

Jon shakes his head.

“Don’t you know I love you every bit as much as you love me? You have my heart Jon. All of it. Every last part.”

“You don’t mean that. Your husband—”

“I want you to be my husband.”

Jon scoffs. “You are mad.”

“No, I’m in love.” Sansa places her hand on Jon’s face and locks eyes with him. “Since I was a little girl I knew I was to marry Joffrey. He was to be my husband and we would have children. My father said so, my mother said so, everybody said so. I never questioned it, not once. I knew it was what I must do for my family. I knew it was what was expected of me. I never considered what I truly wanted, what I needed. I don’t want for money or wealth, I only want you.”

“Sansa, you don’t understand. We’re from entirely different worlds. I grew up in a one room hut whereby my mother had to prostitute herself to put dinner on the table. I pillaged, I stole, I did awful things to survive.”

“I know.”

“No, you don’t,” he snaps, harshly. “You deserve much more than I can ever give you. You deserve all of this and more. You deserve a castle, white horses, a diamond ring on your finger, pretty ball gowns—”

“I don’t want any of that.”

“You say that now, but you don’t know what it means not to have wealth, because you have always had it. What we have had has been truly amazing, but what you have with your husband is what will make you happy.”

“Why does everybody assume they know what will make me happy? Is that a woman’s only job in this world? To do what she’s told?” Sansa walks up to Jon, exasperated. “Jon, you proclaimed your love for me, if it’s true, if you meant what you said—”

“I did. I do.”

“Then let me come with you. We will start afresh in a place where nobody knows our name. Even if we have nothing we will have each other.” Sansa can see how tempted Jon is. “We can leave tonight and never return.”

“What about your family? Your parents and your siblings? You’ve spoke so often of how fond of them you are.”

“That’s true, but they’re not my family now that I am married. I so rarely see them.”

“I know many men that have done this - taken leave with another man's wife - and none are men that are respected. I may not have money or success, but I have my principles.”

“I’m not asking you to compromise your principles.”

“Yes you are, simply by asking to come away with me.”

“But if it’s my choice—”

“You are still married in the eyes of the law and God.”

Sansa feels she is fighting a losing battle and cannot understand it. If Jon said all of those wonderful things to her the other day, how can he refuse her now? She knows she must try a different approach if she is to help him to see reason. “Fine. If you refuse you have me, I’ll remain here with Joffrey.” Jon is surprised by Sansa’s surrender. “I have only one favour to ask of you. I only ask that before you leave you make love to me.”

He blinks a few moments as though he cannot believe his ears. Sansa bites her lip and holds his gaze unflinchingly. She’s seen enough of other ladies flirting to know how to seduce a man, even if she hasn’t put it into practice until now.

“I cannot do what you ask of me.”

“Nobody has made me feel the way you make me feel.” She runs her fingertips across his beard. “Your touch sets my skin on fire, my body aches for you, I think of you morning and night, I long for your kiss…” She places one feather-like kiss on his lips and then grazes her mouth across his cheek to his neck and ear. “I want you to do bad things to me, Jon.”

He gulps. “No…I…I…No…”

“I saw what you did that night to Ida. Right here in this kitchen, on this counter-top. You saw me. Do you remember?”

He nods.

“I want you to do the same to me.” Sansa is trembling inside, terrified and uncertain of what she’s doing, but she doesn’t let it show. She glides her hand down his chest and cups his manhood in her hands. “Show me how much you love me, Jon. Do everything to me that Joffrey never does.”

She leans back away from his ear to search his eyes and in her hand, Sansa feels a swelling beneath his trousers. It doesn’t take long for him to surrender as he kisses her mercilessly. The kiss is messy, desperate and fuelled with passion. None of Sansa’s kisses with Joffrey have ever been like this. They’re always brief and unfeeling, but this feels like an explosion. His fingers expertly work at the fastenings of her corset and whilst he is shed of his clothing in under a minute, it takes longer to remove Sansa’s underskirts.

Deep down inside Sansa knows this is wrong – she’s married to another man, she promised herself to him until death to they part – but her heart and body tell her differently. Every cell in her body is screaming out for Jon’s touch and she cannot stop herself from pushing against him harder and harder, even though they can’t possibly get any closer. Jon’s hands and mouth are everywhere, caressing, licking, stroking and nibbling every inch of Sansa’s flesh until they collapse onto the floor in a tangle of limbs, frantically rolling about on top of one another. Whilst Sansa is accustomed to lying still on her back and letting Joffrey have his way with her, in this instance Sansa is a lot less passive because she actually wants this. As their tongues dance together and Jon grabs her ass, digging his nails in as he does Sansa grabs his erect cock and sinks down on top of it. Jon’s hips raise off the floor to slowly thrust deeper inside her and Sansa leans her head back, her eyes closed, appreciating the fullness of Jon being inside her. Nothing can compete with the completeness and profound love she feels as she gazes into Jon’s eyes.

“I love you,” she tells him, never wanting him to forget it.

“I love you too.”

They linger in the moment for a while, kissing each other deeply, before their pace quickens. Sansa finds it surprisingly enjoyable and thrilling to be on top and revels in it. Out there in the world she must be meek and submissive, but here with Jon she can be exactly who she wants to be. As she grinds her hips up and down on top of him and witnesses the effect she has on him, she feels more powerful than she has in her entire life. When Jon hits the deepest part of her and she has the first orgasm of her life, all of Sansa’s cares are obliterated. Her body takes over until she’s a quivering, breathless, mess frantically calling out Jon’s name and begging for more. Without pause Jon pulls out from her and sinks his head into her sodden cunt, furiously devouring her. The intensity is unlike anything Sansa could ever have imagined and she winds her fingers into Jon’s hair, ripping it from his head as she completely loses control of her movements. Her hips relentlessly cant against Jon’s face until her juices are smeared all over it and just as she’s about to reach her peak again, Jon slips back inside and with a few final thrusts, the two of them are singing their choruses together as they come, clutched in one another’s grasp.

They remain entangled for endless minutes, Jon still inside her, their bodies stuck together with sweat. Sansa kisses his head and clings to him, never wanting this bliss to end.

“From the moment I saw you, I loved you,” Sansa tells him. “I don’t think I will ever stop, no matter where you are in the world. Even if I never see you again, I will still love you.”

Jon peers up at her, a troubled look on her face. “Don’t say such things.”

“Why not? It’s the truth.”

“Sometimes the truth is not always what it should be.”

“What does that mean?” Sansa asks.

“That it would be much easier if the truth was not that I love you and want you to be my wife. That it would be much easier if I didn’t want to runaway with you and have children with you and spend the rest of my life making love to you just like that.”

Sansa is speechless.

“I thought you said—You said we could never be together.”

“And we can’t. What happened here can never be spoken of again.”

Jon’s words hurt and seem to taint the beauty of what just happened between them.

“So…where will you go?” Sansa asks, tearfully.

He sighs, wipes a strand of red hair from her face and says, “Where will _we_ go?”

Sansa looks at him in disbelief and after a few moments begins to half laugh and half cry with happiness. They come together and kiss once more, a passionate and loving kiss. Perhaps Sansa is still the naïve, ignorant little girl that was too invested in dreams, that she once was. Perhaps love can never be what it is in the poems and perhaps the love she and Jon have will fizzle out and die with time, but she’s willing to take that risk because having a passion and love like Sansa has with Jon is what it truly means to be alive.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


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